


Proxy

by tinkertoysdamn



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Mirror Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Corporal Punishment, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Mirror Universe, Pederasty, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Underage Sex, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4056877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkertoysdamn/pseuds/tinkertoysdamn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this years ago but I'm kind of proud of this little piece of porn.</p>
<p>Based on a prompt for the 2nd ISS Enterprise kink meme:</p>
<p>Homosexualy isn't allowed in the terran empire, however pederasty is! (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pederasty_in_ancient_Greece)</p>
<p>So, Spock, Kirk, Scotty, Sulu, and so on, is in love with McCoy, but they cant have him. They can, however, force a relationship on McCoy and Chekov and watch them fuck each other raw.</p>
<p>http://issenterprise.livejournal.com/56034.html?thread=836322#t836322</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proxy

“I should have let them kill you.” McCoy grunted, his large surgeon’s hands tightening on the teenager’s pale thighs. His cock thrust in and out of the once virgin ass at a furious pace. 

“I’m sorry!” Chekov sobbed, eyes red and wet. “I’m sorry!” Breath hitching in his chest, hands clenched into fists, the teen looked nothing like the little sociopath McCoy knew.

“Bones, you’re not doing it right if he’s still talking.”

McCoy glared at the captain over his shoulder. The smug little shit was sprawled on a large chair, hand tugging his dick at a leisurely pace. His blue eyes were bright, fixated on the slip and slide of McCoy’s cock. 

“Perhaps if you lifted his hips, Doctor.”

Great, now the Vulcan was piping in. Spock sat stiff-backed in his chair, only the green flush to his face giving away his arousal. 

There was a murmur of agreement from the room’s other two occupants, Sulu the helmsman and Scotty the Chief Engineer. They were masturbating in full view of the others, but without the finesse or poise of Kirk. They shouldn’t be watching this, they shouldn’t be enjoying this and they sure as hell shouldn’t have ordered it. Kinky motherfucking bastards. 

The hell of it was, McCoy didn’t even like Chekov. The navigator had tried to assassinate Kirk and had failed miserably. He should have been executed but McCoy had to open his big fat mouth. Leonard McCoy was terrified of space and the only man he trusted to maneuver this flying tin can they called a ship was Ensign Pavel Chekov. 

When Chekov was slated for execution, McCoy had pleaded for his life. “But he still needs to be punished,” Kirk had said.

The doctor had resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Send him to the Agony Booth, beat him, torture him, I don’t care as long as he can still navigate.”

Then Kirk’s grin had curved into an evil smile. “I have a better idea.”

McCoy should have known he was in trouble then, but it wasn’t until he was summoned to the officer’s lounge and told to strip and fuck the ensign that he had known how much. “I can’t do that. It’s against Empire Law.”

“According to a subsection of the sodomy laws, intercourse between two males is allowed if one partner’s age falls within a certain spectrum,” Spock had answered. “Ensign Chekov fulfills the requirement.”

So now McCoy was trying to imagine that the sucking tightness of Chekov’s ass was that of willing pussy and that the lubricant was natural, not from a tube. His broad hands circled under the teen’s body and lifted oh so slightly.

Chekov screamed.

“You’ve hit the sweet spot, lad!” Scotty shouted.

That was it. “No more comments from the peanut gallery!”

McCoy focused his attention back on the kid that had started this whole mess. Chekov’s face was a mask of pain and ecstasy, with neither one pulling out ahead. “Touch yourself, kid. The faster you come the faster we get out of here,” McCoy said.

The navigator’s hand wrapped around his own angry erection and he moaned. McCoy could hear the sounds of jerking off behind him but he ignored it. He had to pay attention or they’d be doing this all night. Maybe a little dirty talk would help.

“Do you like this? The bridge crew watching your slutty, ungrateful ass getting fucked?” McCoy said. “You like having your life in my hands and on my cock? Was that part your brilliant plan? Getting fucked like some underage whore in front of these sadistic assholes?” Okay, he was too furious to be nice, but it didn’t seem to matter to Chekov.

The kid yelped, his cock squirting hot sticky semen between them. Just a few thrusts into clenching ass later, McCoy found his own release. He was too shamed and horrified to feel like he had actually gotten off. Thank god McCoy had done STD screenings on the crew lately or he’d be freaking out about how many diseases had just splashed across his stomach.

There was a light smattering of applause. McCoy pulled out of the whimpering ensign, plotting exactly how he could kill the entire bridge crew with a minimum of fuss. 

“Look at how messy Ensign Chekov is,” Kirk said. “You should clean him up.”

McCoy scowled. “We’re in the goddamn officer’s lounge. Do you see any towels?”

The captain flashed his teeth. “Then you’ll have to use your tongue.”

Shit and semen were the last tastes McCoy wanted in his mouth, but he didn’t have much choice. He would keep this professional, just do what he needed to do and get out. Then he could spend the next several hours scrubbing his skin raw to remove the memory of this awful night.

The doctor’s rough tongue lapped against the still warm ejaculate smeared on the ensign’s stomach. Muscle twitched beneath him as he licked up the salty mess. One. Two. Three.

It took six strokes. How many would it take to clean out Chekov’s ass? McCoy shuddered, his insides cramping in disgust.

He knelt down between the boy’s spread legs to look at the abused rectum. Leonard did a preliminary examination with his fingers. “No tearing or blood. That’s a good sign, kid,” he told Chekov. “You’ll be sore for a while, but there’s no damage.”

“You did want him to be able to work,” Kirk called out. “Good job, Bones.”

Scotty could not resist adding his own input. “Now hurry up and clean out the boy’s ass!”

McCoy’s hand clenched into a fist. He had more methods for killing a man at his disposal than any other on the ship. He could inject these men with diseases that could rot their insides, starting with their dicks, before they finally died in agony weeks later. He could pump toxins into the air that would cause everyone in the vicinity to asphyxiate within seconds of inhalation. He could melt flesh from bone with just a small spritz from a bottle.

How dare they not fear him?

Leonard would take care of them later, all four of them. Or, if he lacked the patience, he’d just kill the whole damn Enterprise. 

He pressed his face close to the entrance of Chekov’s body and dove in. He could do this. He could do this and move on to the more pleasant task of assassinating certain senior officers. 

Leonard kept his eyes closed, his tongue moving on instinct. He ignored the whimpering sounds Chekov made and the salty horrible taste flooding his mouth. 

Scotty exhaled under his breath. “Ah, hell.”

McCoy imagined that deep brogue screaming as he sawed off Scott’s fingers one by one with a bonesaw. His lips curved into a grin. 

Yes. He stabbed his tongue deep into the boy, causing Chekov to let out a sharp gasp. That would do nicely. McCoy wouldn’t just cut them off at the carpometacarpal joint. No. He’d take them one knuckle at a time. He’d use a coagulant just so Scotty wouldn’t bleed to death, at least not right away. 

Sulu he’d kill with anaphylactic shock. Make it look like a reaction to one of his plants. The helmsman’s tongue would swell and turn purple as he slowly choked to death on it. He would claw at his own neck trying to breathe. The symptoms would have to act fast, much too fast for an old country doctor to manufacture a cure. 

The Vulcan would be a unique challenge. His physiology was often hard to predict. Leonard would have to get creative for that one. 

Before he knew it, the ensign was clean. McCoy leaned back to examine his handiwork. What he didn’t expect to see was Chekov’s renewed erection. It stood tall, proud and achingly hard. Leonard wanted to strangle the ensign. 

Sulu chuckled to himself. “Oh, to be young again.”

“I am sorry, Doctor,” Chekov said. There was no apology in his voice. “You have a very talented tongue.” 

Leonard just snarled in disgust. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Seems a shame to let such a beauty go to waste,” Kirk said.

McCoy felt a chill crawl up his spine. No. “He’s been punished enough tonight.” McCoy protested. And me too, he didn’t add. “Just let the little shit go.”

His comment went unheeded. “Indeed,” Spock said, continuing Kirk’s earlier thought. “But I feel that the doctor should be allowed to rest his tongue. He has used it extensively this evening.”

McCoy couldn’t help himself. “You green-blooded bastard!”

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “Your input is not required in this discussion, Doctor.”

“Like hell it isn’t!”

“Bones, Bones, Bones.” Kirk shook his head, one hand still stroking his cock. “You really need to learn to relax.” He closed his eyes and exhaled as he tugged at a faster rhythm. “Or this next part is going to hurt.” Kirk stopped touching himself and stared at Chekov, his eyes full of command. “Ensign Chekov!”

Chekov raised his head. “Yes, Sir?”

“Fuck the good doctor for me,” Kirk ordered.

Chekov took the command much too calmly. “Aye, Captain.” 

Leonard couldn’t believe it. They’d all gone crazy. There was no way Starfleet would condone this if they found out. There was no way they would let this slide. But how would they know? No one in this room was going to tell them anything, Leonard least of all. The sheer humiliation if this ever got out—

Before he knew it, Leonard was flat on his back, Chekov leaning over him. The ensign stared down at him with clear eyes. There was no fear, no anger, just a naked desire that made Leonard’s skin want to creep off his bones. The teenager lowered his naked body down. His flesh was flushed and hot from arousal. The ensign kissed the shell of the doctor’s ear.

“Don’t worry,” Chekov said, accent thick with lust. The navigator’s narrow fingers trailed down, down Leonard’s chest to his abdomen. He splayed his fingers across the doctor’s stomach for a moment, murmuring something in Russian. Then the hand moved lower still, to where no one had ever touched Leonard before. He tensed as the ensign tested the reluctant entrance to his body. Chekov sighed, his warmth doing nothing to ease Leonard’s fear. “I’ll be gentle.”


End file.
